Ten Galleons
by Worthfull1
Summary: Sirius finds a box of his father's old cigars. Birthday fic for gryffinbros over on tumblr. No smut. Rated T for smoking. One-shot.


**Author's Note:** Written for the ever adorable _**gryffinbros**_ over on tumblr because it's their birthday. OotP summer era.

Thanks, Worthfull1

P.S. I own nothing, anything recognizable belongs to the lovely Ms. Rowling. I also don't own Bad Company's song _Seagull_.

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 **Ten Galleons**

"Hey, Moony, look what I found," Sirius said, walking into the sitting room of Grimmauld holding a small box.

"Unearthed a treasure, have you?" Remus replied, looking up from his current project - tuning the guitar they'd found in the back of Sirius' closet earlier during a clean-out.

Instead of answering, Sirius shoved the box under Remus' nose and opened the lid.

"Ah! Godric, those stink!" Remus recoiled, his nose crinkling. "Did you absolutely have to do that?" he asked his best friend.

Sirius barked a laugh and tossed the box of Orion's cigars - probably twenty years old - on the coffee table.

"Come on, Sirius, get those out of here. Toss them in the bin where they belong," Remus begged, leaning as far back as the sofa he was sitting on would allow.

"Toss them in the bin?!" Sirius repeated, taking a cigar and bringing it to his ear, rolling the paper between his fingers. "D'you have any idea how much these cost my old man, Remus? These are the best cigars money can buy. Can't toss them in the bin."

"You most certainly can," Remus argued. "What's the alternative? Sticking them in a glass box for posterity? Surely, you're not going to try and smoke them? You'll be sick all over yourself."

Sirius smirked. "Maybe."

"Maybe? Definitely. Padfoot, you're not… " Remus didn't finish. Sirius cocked an eyebrow at him and Remus narrowed his eyes. "A wager, then," he proposed, recognizing the signs of imminent stupidity.

"Certainly."

"Ten galleons says you can't smoke half of that cigar without puking," Remus said.

"You're going to do it, aren't you, Sirius?" George asked.

"'Course he is," Fred chimed in. "A Marauder never backs down from a wager."

Sirius winked at the twins, ignoring Hermione's eye roll, and shook Remus' hand. "Deal."

"Oh, this can only end well," Tonks piped up sarcastically, winking at Harry and Ron, who'd abandoned their Potions essay to watch the show.

Sirius grinned and took out a small pocket knife, cutting the end of the cigar before bringing it to his lips, but Remus interrupted him.

"Hang on, let me see that." Remus took the cigar from Sirius. Pulling out his wand, he made a silver band wrap around it at exactly half-way. "There," he handed it back to Sirius. "Now you can light up."

Sirius brought his wand to the end of the cigar, the tip glowing red as he lit it, puffing on it a few times to make sure it took. Within seconds the sitting room was permeated with the stench of stale tobacco and Remus and Tonks both had their wands out, waving them around to try and dissipate the noxious cloud.

"Ugh, that does stink," Ginny said, Remus nodding at her in agreement.

Sirius just pouted and took another puff. His nose twitched, but he gave no other indication of not enjoying the hypocritically muggle cigar. Remus watched him carefully as he resumed tuning Sirius' old acoustic guitar, cocking his head this way and that to get the pitch right, but never taking his eyes off Sirius, who only smirked at him in return.

It took longer than Remus expected, but by the time he got to the second stanza of Bad Company's _Seagull_ , Sirius was looking a bit green. Remus fingered the last few chords of the song just in time for Sirius to splutter just a little.

"Don't you puke on me, Padfoot," Remus warned. "Remember how well that ended last time."

"What happened last time?" Tonks asked.

"I was drunk," Sirius said, pausing to swallow cautiously, "and instead of making it to James' loo in time, I fell on the sofa where Moony was sitting and threw up on his lap."

A chorus of 'ew's sounded around the room.

"What did you do?" Hermione asked Remus.

"Turned his hair pink for a week and left the trousers I'd been wearing in his bedroom to rot."

"So _that's_ what was stinking so bad," Sirius said. "What did you do, make them invisible? I kept thinking a mouse had died in the wall or something."

"Actually, I did make them invisible," Remus chuckled. "I'd forgotten."

Sirius scowled at him. "Arsehole."

"Wanker," Remus retorted. " _Drunk_ wanker."

Sirius laughed at the memory and that did it. Eyes going wide, he tossed the one-third-smoked cigar onto the table and bolted out of the room, making a beeline for the first-floor bathroom.

Remus flung the guitar behind the sofa and raced after his friend, getting there in time to hear the sounds of violent retching as he neared the open door. He leaned against the door jam and crossed his arms over his chest, grinning.

"Looks like you owe me ten galleons," he said happily, thinking about how much chocolate that would buy as the rest of the house caught up to him.

Sirius didn't reply with words, he simply brought an arm around his back and flipped Remus the bird, and a sound rarely heard echoed in the hallway.

Remus laughed.

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 **Author's Note:** Thanks for reading!

Worthfull1


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